


The Bet

by inkheart9459



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkheart9459/pseuds/inkheart9459
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy's finally been promoted to First Assistant now that Emily has moved on, and she's been finding it hard to keep a new second assistant. Just when she thinks she's got a good one, Nigel strides in a tells her she won't last a day and Andy makes a bet that she will. She, of course, loses spectacularly and now she has to flirt with Miranda for the entire day. She's pretty sure she's going to die, but not before she takes Nigel with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Crazybecat both for the prompt for this story and the beta and to roseyruewritessometimes22 for the beta as well. Y'all are lovely.

Andy was going to kill Nigel. She wasn’t sure how. She wasn’t sure when. But it was totally going to happen. Right after she was done kicking herself. She compulsively arranged and then rearranged her desk. It was odd sitting on the other side of the room now that she was first assistant. Her desk didn’t feel quite right no matter what she did.

She glared over at the now empty second assistant’s desk. The girl who had sat there only yesterday was why she was in this fucking mess anyway. And that’s what it was, a fucking mess. There was no other word for it even if she wasn’t prone to cursing.

A week previous Miranda had set off on one of her short business trips that she didn’t need an assistant along for and left Andy alone with a stack of resumes so she could fill the empty second assistant’s position. In the month since Emily had gone on to work under Nigel in the art department, her complete and total dream job, they had been through six girls. Andy had been looking forward to having a whole week to interview people. She really, really wanted to find someone how could weather the storm that was Miranda. Doing the work of two assistants was more insane than normal. Having a week meant she could find the perfect person.

And she had.

Or at least she thought she had. On the third day of interviews a girl named Tiffani had walked in, more like strutted in her five inch heels, shook Andy’s hand with a bright smile, gave her the best resume Andy had seen to date, and then blew her away during the interview with her answers. She had already worked as an assistant for some lower level clients, so she knew the job at least partly. She had a fashion sense. She had seemed perfect from where Andy stood.

And for the next four days Andy’s life had just been that much easier as Tiffani had clicked away at her desk. She almost believed she’d done it. Until Nigel walked in the day after she hired Tiffani, took one look at the girl and turned to Andy, pulling her up out of her chair and out into the hall.

“She won’t last a day with Miranda,” he said.

Andy had spluttered for a second before settling on an answer. “She will. What makes you think she won’t? God knows at least she knows how to spell Gabbana because I didn’t when I got here.”

“Six, just trust me. She won’t last.”

Andy had scowled. “Wanna bet?” She lifted her chin up in the air and crossed her arms. She had been at Runway long enough that she knew what she was doing and knew how to stand up for herself and she was damned if she wasn’t going to do that now.

“Oh, I’ll bet all right. One day, she won’t last.”

“Fine, your is bet noted, so what do I get when I win?”

Nigel thought for a second. “An outfit from the Closet anything you want that’s already had its line shot for the magazine. It’s yours. And yes, Six, shoes and other accessories included.”

Andy perked up at that. Some of the clothes in the Closet she’d die to actually own, not just borrow. Then again, she’d also like the money she’d get when inevitably she’d have to sell them at some thrift store after they were out of season. She could put it away for that new laptop she’d been wanting.

“Ok, deal.”

“And when I win…” he trailed off and smirked evilly after a second. “You’ll have to spend the entire next day after whatever in there is fired flirting with Miranda.”

Andy pulled a disbelieving face. “Um, Nigel, why in the world would you want that?”

“Because I’m fond of entertainment.”

Andy shook her head. Well there was no way she was going to lose so she said, “You’re on.”

Except that Tiffani had lasted all of five hours before Miranda had her scurrying out of the office in tears. Andy had no idea what the girl had done wrong, but she was well aware of how sharp Miranda’s tongue could be. Apparently the girl just didn’t have the stuff to stand a great many vicious barbs.

So Andy was now sitting at her desk, waiting to begin the day from hell as soon as Miranda walked in. She was going to kill Nigel, shove him right off the top of the Elias-Clarke building, seventy stories up. It seemed like a fitting way for him to go after this. He’d have a few seconds to regret what he’d done to her before he went from the world.

Her phone buzzed on her desk just as Nigel walked in. She looked at it, glared at Nigel, who walked back to the door, opened it and shouted his normal warning to the floor before coming back in and smirking at Andy.

“You’re a horrible person. I’m going to be lucky to get a job at TV Guide after this.”

Nigel just chuckled to himself. “Now, now, Six, there’s no need to be dramatic. I’m sure Auto Universe is still hiring.”

Andy stood from her chair and stalked towards the elevator, pulling in deep breaths to try and center herself. She wondered what in the world Miranda was going to do without any assistants, because that was where this day was heading rapidly. And maybe, if she was really, really unlucky a sexual harassment suit against her. She fought the urge to groan as she reached the elevator bank.

The next minute the doors opened and revealed Miranda, glorious and imperious as normal. She stepped out, shoved the Book in Andy’s hands and started to sprint towards her office while issuing a list of commands without a breath.

“Tell Jocelyn that the layout idea that she submitted yesterday is completely atrocious and I will not have her working on that during company time. She’s to have a new proposal on my desk by noon today or she shouldn’t bother coming back from lunch. Call Demarchelier and tell him we need to set up a time for the next shoot and then set up an appointment so I may talk to the man. His work has been slipping and I can’t have that in my magazine. It seems it is time to put a bit of fear into him. Move the run through up from Friday to tomorrow. If anyone thinks that’s not enough time fire them, they’ve had more than enough time. Have lunch delivered from the place I like the potatoes and cancel the steak from Smith and Wollensky. The girls wanted a new video game something about aliens or maybe it was pinatas.” She waved it off. “Cancel my meeting with Irv, tell him there’s an emergency, or whatever you must I am just not in the mood for that little idiot. And find whoever is wearing that obnoxious perfume and make them take a shower.” She swept the coffee off of her desk and took a long sip. “That’s all. Nigel, come, I hope you have your picks for the Tennis layout.”

Andy scurried from the room without saying a word, thankful that she hadn’t had to just yet. She set immediately to all the tasks that Miranda had rattled off. Maybe if she stayed so busy today she just wouldn’t have to deal with everything and she could get out of the day intact.

Nigel came out of Miranda’s office looking a little worse for wear, but that was normal after a meeting with Miranda. He stood beside Andy’s desk, not directly in Miranda’s line of sight and just stared at her. Andy staunchly kept her eyes on her computer screen, scrolling through pages on Amazon, looking for a video game that matched the description that Miranda had given her. She had it narrowed down to a few different choices based on what she knew about the twins. Maybe if she just staunchly ignored Nigel in favor of her work he would get the message.

Except after a few moments of intense staring he leaned closer to her and pitched his voice so Miranda couldn’t overhear what he was saying. “You can’t just not talk to her all day, Six. I’ll know if you try that. Five comments minimum from you or I’m making you do it all week.”

Andy held back a groan. God she was going to die. She nodded stiffly and with that Nigel disappeared to work on whatever other project he had going for the day. She typed a bit harder on her computer than she really needed to, narrowing down the search a bit more. She was almost sure that the game Miranda meant was Spore now. She vaguely wondered if texting one of the twins and asking to make sure was cheating or a smart move.

“Andrea,” Miranda called out, just above a sub-vocal level.

Andy was out of her seat and in front of Miranda’s desk in a second, notebook in hand, pen at the ready. “Yes, Miranda?”

 “Why in the world must you pound on the keys of your computer? Did it personally slight you in the few minutes I was meeting Nigel?” Miranda cocked an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair, looking Andy over carefully.

Andy swallowed. “Um, no, sorry, Miranda, I guess I’m just a little frustrated.”

“And why ever would you be frustrated? Are you finding one of the tasks I set you to be too much for you? Really, they were all very simple.”

“No, uh, um, I just…” She trailed off and looked Miranda up and down, swallowing hard and blushing. She couldn’t make herself say anything more. How in the world was she supposed to pull of flirty with Miranda Priestly of all people? “It’s not important. I’ll type quieter.”

“No, please, enlighten me since you’ve already wasted at least part of my day with this nonsense. I might as well get the whole explanation to soothe what little curiosity I have for the subject.” Blue eyes pinned Andy to the spot and promised she wouldn’t leave until an acceptable explanation passed through her lips. “Has the assistant that can do anything finally found something she can’t do?”

Andy saw the opening and knew if she wanted to keep her head attached to her neck she shouldn’t take it. She should make something up and run, run far away. But oh god she was not sitting through this another day just for Nigel’s amusement. She swallowed again and spoke quickly, hoping it looked like it just slipped out.

“You.” She felt the blush intensifying and then started to backpedal madly. “Uh, um, I mean, I just, um, you really look nice and, um, and just with everything and working two jobs basically without another assistant has been um, interesting, and, uh, I guess I’m just a little bit less ahold of my normal social filters than normal.” Andy managed to stop herself there and she was going to die, she was sure of it. She found an interesting spot on the carpet and stared at it.

Miranda was deathly silent for a few eternally long seconds. “I see. That’s all.”

Andy blinked for a second, wondering why in the world she wasn’t being sent packing after that train wreck of an explanation. She said Miranda looked nice? What the hell, she hadn’t planned that. But that totally counted for two out of five, right? It was going to have to.

And then she realized she’d been dismissed and flew out of Miranda’s office like a bat out of hell. When she was safely at her desk again she put her head down and silently screamed to herself. Oh yeah, that whole plan about throwing Nigel off of the roof wasn’t good enough now. She would need something much more painful after that little encounter.

She pulled herself up from her desk, still blushing furiously and set to work again, hoping against hope that Miranda wouldn’t call her again anytime soon.

\---

Three hours later Andy prayed to every god and goddess she could think of, real and ones from the fantasy novels she read as a guilty pleasure in her spare time, that Miranda would not want her to go with her to the designer preview Miranda had scheduled for late morning. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to be confined in a tiny car with Miranda for a god knew how long ride there and back. She wasn't sure she would survive the mortification.

She was so engrossed in her prayers that she almost missed Miranda's command as she exited her office. "Andrea, call Nigel and tell him to send up one of his lesser cohorts so they can answer the phones in our absence."

Andy felt like banging her head off the desk right at that moment. But she dutifully picked the phone up off the hook, called Nigel, all the while trying not to kill him with the tone of her voice alone. Since he’d been working for Miranda for years that probably wouldn’t work on him anyway. Two minutes later she’d handed Miranda her coat and bag and grabbed her own. Nigel, his delegated phone answerer, and the rest of the team going to the showing had gathered in the antechamber to Miranda’s office. With a glare from Miranda they were all scurrying down the hallway. Miranda looked at Andy with an expression that clearly stated she worked with idiots, before charging from the room.

She followed Miranda out to the elevator bank where everyone was waiting, already having pushed the button, but no one having left yet without Miranda having her very own elevator car. They barely paused a moment before the doors of one opened. Miranda walked right on, glaring at Andy to follow. Andy felt like she needed every explicative she’d learned ever, in all the languages she knew, just to convey how screwed she was. She stepped on and just before the doors shut Nigel grinned at her and mouthed “Five.” She glared at him long after the doors shut and elevator had started to move.

Andy glanced over at Miranda nervously. They were alone. Technically this might be the best place to slip another one of those flirtatious comments to Miranda. Or it might be the worst place possible since they were still, she glanced up at the number on the elevator screen, on the tenth floor and a fall from this height would totally kill her. But she wasn’t going to have the nerve to say anything in front of anyone either. She looked up at the ceiling for a very, very long moment and put her fate in the will of whatever god would have it.

“Uh, that jacket really compliments your eyes. They’re um, really blue today and I like it.” She wanted to hit herself. Where the hell has she learned to flirt? A kindergarten classroom? You’re pretty, I like you? She felt like sinking into the ground and never, ever coming back up.

Miranda turned to look at her for another long moment. She rustled around after a second and pulled her sunglasses from the purse she was holding and slipped them on, still staring at Andy. She wondered when the death blow would come, but it didn’t. A second later the doors to the elevator opened and they were off again, walking to the car and slipping inside as Roy ferried them off to their appointment with the rest of their entourage following in another car.

She had survived stupid comments twice now. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Andy stared firmly out the window and tried her hardest to pretend that Miranda wasn’t less than three feet away from her as the car rolled through Manhattan. Instead she now thought of how she was going to torture Nigel before she killed him because this no longer merited a quick death. Suddenly that report she’d done on medieval torture devices actually seemed like it would come in handy for real, practical knowledge.

Miranda for her part seemed to be content to ignore Andy as well and that suited Andy just fine. There were small favors in the world, but sitting next to Miranda for the next few hours was going to be a torture she wasn’t sure she was ready for. She groaned internally and decided that maybe an iron maiden was appropriate for Nigel’s death. And maybe some thumb screws. Sometimes American public school education had its perks. She smiled maybe a bit more insanely than was advised, but after today maybe it was ok.

 

\----

She sat in the car again after the longest ever preview that Andy had been at. The designer had so. Many. Designs. It was pitiful. Even more pitiful because even Andy with her limited fashion experience could tell they were all crap. Miranda had pursed her lips not once, not twice, but at least five separate times. The designer had tried frantically to weather through it, introducing more pieces in hopes that something would work. Nothing had. And now Miranda was in the mood of the century. If not for Nigel and this stupid bet when they got back to Runway she would’ve just hunkered down at her desk and not made so much as a peep, but no.

Andy swallowed and looked over at Miranda stabbing the buttons on her Blackberry so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall off. Oh this was so not the time or the place for a comment with Miranda acting like that. Nigel could go to hell for right now. She’d have to either lie about comments three through five or do them later when Miranda had calmed a bit, maybe fired a few people. She sighed and settled back into the seat.

Miranda threw her phone in her bag and huffed. “Honestly, why even waste my time. Has something made them completely stupid?” She made a disgusted noise.

“Honestly, I think the thought of being in your presence makes them stupid. I know sometimes it leaves my brain a bit mushy. You’re just so…” Andy sighed, unable to find the word for her. Then her eyes widened a second later because she realized that had just slipped out on accident. She had at least somewhat flirted with Miranda without thinking about it. She blushed intensely and looked out the window. She really wished that mutants were real and that she’d somehow gained the power to phase through objects because that’s what she wanted yet again.

When she managed to look back at Miranda who had cleared her throat quietly, it almost looked like she was blushing. Andy squinted. She _had_ to be seeing things. Had to. Miranda Priestly didn’t blush. Miranda Priestly struck terror into people’s hearts. She didn’t do anything so…adorable as blush at a compliment.

“Yes, well, the fact remains that I just wasted three hours of my life that could have been used for much better purposes. I do have a magazine to run and the print deadline is next week. This was not what I needed.” Miranda visibly swallowed and then sat up a little straighter, blush fading rapidly as she looked over at Andy. “When we get back I need you to…” Miranda fired off another paragraph long list of things that Andy had to do once they got back to Runway.

Andy dutifully scribbled everything down; infinitely glad they were back to business as normal once more. Three down, two to go.

\---

After lunch Andy sat at her desk, watching out the glass door of Miranda’s office as everyone in Runway scrambled to get ready for the run through that Miranda had moved up by three hours. You would think they would’ve learned by now to be ready at least a couple hours ahead of time as often as Miranda moved up the deadlines, if not a couple days just in case, but no one ever seemed to learn. Andy snickered and set back to scheduling out Miranda’s next week of meetings and other obligations. As always, it was like playing Tetris without any of the long skinny blocks, but she was managing to make it work.

At the appointed time the run through crew charged in with clothing rack after clothing rack, skittering nervously. Andy just looked at her monitor and frowned at a meeting that Irv had scheduled for next week that was severely cramping her style. Miranda would probably want it cancelled anyway next week; she should probably just save herself the trouble and do it now. She picked up the phone to do just that when Miranda called for her.

“Andrea,” her quiet voice floated into the outer office.

Andy was in her office, note pad in hand like some sort of Pavlovian dog. “Yes, Miranda?”

“I would like you to take notes.” She gestured to a chair a little off to the side of the action.

Andy walked over and sat stiffly, waiting for the action to get started so she could take notes. She wished in a journalism degree they still taught how to write in honest to god shorthand. She would find it infinitely useful being Miranda’s assistant if not being a modern journalist.

Jocelyn stepped forward, probably voted to be the lamb for the slaughter at this run through. “So as we were going through the collections of a lot of the designers for this season we came across a lot of prints, which isn’t new of course, but we went through and picked out the patterns that none of us have seen before, the fresh ones, and a few classics just to round out the selection.”

Miranda was already thumbing through the selections the others had brought her. She wasn’t frowning; she wasn’t really doing anything at all except looking.

“We thought that maybe we could do something with prints and lace, make it edgier. Um, and then paired with the appropriate jewelry, we thought chunky would be best since there would be so much going on, but then we thought that might be too much so we brought a selection of understated as well. The shoes we kept to normal grey scale shades since there should be more focus on the rest of the outfit.” Jocelyn looked at Miranda and shut her mouth and didn’t go on, figuring that everything that needed said had been said.

Andy scribbled down the gist of everything and waited for Miranda to speak up. Miranda pulled out a dress, black and white hounds tooth that looked about mid-thigh length. She frowned at it for a second before walking over to the wrack where the accessories were. She dug through everything for just a second before coming up with a pair of lace fingerless gloves and a simple pair of diamond studs. She grabbed a pair of black Prada pumps and hung the completed outfit on a blank part of one of the racks.

Miranda turned to Nigel. “What do you think?”

Nigel considered it for a long moment. “It’s preppy meets punky, but much more understated than normal.” His eyes drifted over the selections in front of them. “There’s a way to incorporate the same theme with a good amount of the selections here if that’s the direction you want to go. No one’s done it quite this way before and no one’s done preppy punk in five years or more. It has potential with the right shoot.”

Miranda hummed and stepped forward again, picking out six more outfits in rapid order. When everything was put into garment bags for later Miranda turned to the group assembled. “I see some of you actually brought your heads to work today. Get back to work!”

They all scurried out again leaving Andy and Miranda alone once more. Andy stood up from her chair and sighed, shaking out her hand. Typing was going to be a bit of a challenge for the next fifteen minutes. Hopefully there weren’t too many emails to deal with.

She looked up again to see Miranda staring at her. Andy flushed and looked away. Miranda’s hand entered her peripheral vision. She handed over the notebook and waited nervously as Miranda read over her rather choppy notes. There was only really enough there for her to understand when she was typing it up later. Miranda, however, nodded and handed the notebook back.

“It seems you’ve brought your head to work today as well.” She sniffed and turned from Andy to circle around her desk.

“Watching you work like that is almost hypnotic, you know?” Andy apparently now couldn’t stop herself from saying whatever was immediately on her mind. “It’s actually kind of hot how focused you get on what’s in front of you, though, honestly, not as much as you yelling at other people. Run throughs seem to be the best of both worlds in that regards.” Well, there was number four. And this time she really was dead, she knew it with a certainty she’d never felt before.

Miranda stared at Andy again, this time with her head tilted as if she was trying to figure out just what in the world Andy was trying to do. Maybe she was trying to figure out if Andy had been replaced by Mole Men or something. She never could quite tell when Miranda’s face was this blank.

The editor stalked forward and ended up a little too close for Andy’s comfort. “Hot? I don’t think anyone has called me hot in quite a long while. In fact they seem to think I’m rather icy.”

“I bet you’re the exact opposite where it counts.” Andy was starting to worry that she’d ingesting some illegal substances along the way and that’s why she was just throwing herself off cliff after cliff. But at least that comment made five thank god almighty she could stop now.

Miranda’s eyes darkened. “My husbands haven’t ever thought so.”

“They’re idiots who probably don’t know how to treat someone like you, worship and all that, at least in bed.”

“And you think you would?”

“I have no idea, but god I would like to.”

Miranda reached out and touched Andy’s forehead gently. She hummed to herself before stepping back. “That’s all.”

Andy stared after the woman for a second before bolting from the office yet again. Nigel was dead. She was going to torture him. Or better yet she was going to tell Miranda about the bet and then Miranda could deal with him. She smiled at that. Yeah, Miranda would do a much better job of ripping him limb from limb. Andy would be happy to watch from the sidelines. The thought kept her from running out the doors of Runway in humiliation at least.

\---

Miranda strode out from her office just after dinner, working late tonight in order to take off early tomorrow for some activity or other with the twins. She looked over at Andy who was concentrated on her work, pen cap firmly encased between two full lips. She stepped forward, heels not making a sound on the tile below.

“Andrea,” she said, practically purring.

Andy startled up, heart beating almost out of her chest. She swallowed convulsively at the look on Miranda’s face. The woman looked positively…hungry. Andy suddenly felt like some very tasty cut of meat. New York Strip probably. Medium rare.

“If you insist on chewing on your pens like that I might have to find a more suitable use for those lips and teeth of yours.” She smiled, all teeth and predator before walking out of the office and turning towards the art department.

Andy sat there for a long time just staring dumbly at the second assistant’s desk in front of her. Had Miranda Priestly…just flirted with her. Or more accurately, flirted back. She felt like she was going to hyperventilate. There was no way that had happened. No way. She was dreaming. She was on something. She was dying and her brain was trying to console her with nice fantasies.

But then why the hell would this be her fantasy? Why would flirting with Miranda and Miranda flirting back even be at the top of any list of fantasies she had? Then again why in the world were comments popping out of her mouth all day without her conscious thought? She was a mess, which was all she really knew for sure. And she would be an even bigger mess if Miranda came back and all of her work wasn’t done or at least in the process of being done. She straightened up and turned back to her computer, but didn’t really focus. Her brain was too preoccupied trying to figure out why in the world everything was happening. No answers were forthcoming, but at least deleting a few emails from annoying people made her feel a bit better on all fronts.

\---

Andy yawned. It was late, nearing ten o’clock. The Book would be done soon, but Miranda was still here so it wasn’t like that was really the demarcation for the end of the day like it normally was. She was tired. It had been an extremely long day in which she’d stuck her foot in her mouth more than once after Miranda had left the office to go to the art department in the early evening. She may have passed Nigel’s five comment minimum, but she couldn’t keep herself from saying more. It was like the flood gates were now opened and she had no choice but to spill everything out.

And Miranda had returned a few of the better comments with witty, very provocative comments of her own. Andy had no idea what to make of it. It was Miranda after all. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it meant everything. All she knew was at this rate she was going to fall asleep at her desk if she didn’t get to go home soon.

She heard the muted click-thump of a pair of men’s dress shoes padding down the empty halls of Runway and sighed. The Book was coming at least. Maybe that would convince Miranda to go home, or at least send Andy home. She prayed again to whoever would listen even though she wasn’t sure it was worth the time. No one had listened to her all day, but she supposed it was something to do.

Paul walked in and waved at Andy. She smiled at him as he set the Book on her desk. He sent a glance into Miranda’s still lit office and cocked an eyebrow. She shrugged. Miranda’s late nights weren’t anything new.

“Have a good night,” he said quietly.

“You too,” Andy returned as he walked out of the door and back to his office probably to gather his things. She was insanely jealous of that fact.

She sighed, grabbed the Book from the top of her desk and walked quietly into Miranda’s office. Miranda was sitting, pouring over what looked to be a spreadsheet, proofs of the last photoshoot pushed off to the side for the moment. If Andy had to guess from the amount of red on the proofs Miranda was probably calculating how much it would hurt the profit margins if she ordered the shoot to be redone. Andy grimaced; someone was going to have a bad day tomorrow more than likely.

She set the Book on Miranda’s desk and stepped back to return to her own. Miranda’s voice stopped her.

“Well?”

Andy turned and looked at Miranda for a second, confused. What in the world could she want? Everything was done for the day; she was just answering emails as they came in and making appointments with designers in time zones that were ahead of them. Everything had been fetched and delivered to Miranda. Andy knew she wouldn’t want coffee this late, but neither was she in the mood for tea. The bottle of Pellegrino on her desk was still cold; she’d gotten it less than half an hour before. She was at a loss, and her normal Miranda senses that told her what the woman wanted and when, were failing her.

Miranda cocked her eyebrow, waiting. She started to blush just the smallest bit, barely visible under the still miraculously perfect makeup Miranda wore. It hit Andy like a freight train.

“Oh.” She took a step forward, and another until she was standing right in front of Miranda’s set, the tops of her legs pushing into the glass surface. “It’s amazing to me how someone still looks absolutely perfect at ten o’clock at night. Most people at least have worn off their lipstick by now, but you, never. I sort of want to help you wear off that lipstick just because I think you’d look even better then.”

Miranda looked Andy up and down slowly, her eyes leaving trails of fire in their wake. “Andrea, shut the door and lock it behind you. Then come over here.” She strode to the couch and chair set that Miranda kept in the corner of her office for less formal meetings.

Andy swallowed. She was being locked in the office with Miranda. Her heart beat faster and she knew it wasn’t all because of fear; there was totally excitement in there too. She did as instructed and then walked over to the couch Miranda was sitting on and sunk down beside her, not quite as far from the other woman as she would normally sit.

Miranda shifted towards Andy, scooting closer and turning to face her. Andy watched her, frozen in place, not quite sure what in the world was going on, but wanting to find out. She stopped just an inch or so from touching Andy. Andy breathed in quickly, feeling like she was not getting enough oxygen. Which was totally a mistake because this close she could smell Miranda and that made her head spin just a bit. She always smelled citrusy with a bit of floral, but there was something dark in there, smoky almost. Andy had no doubt that whatever perfume she used was specially crafted for her.

“Did you mean the things you said today?” Miranda asked, looking Andy dead in the eye.

Andy thought about it for a second, barely that. “Yes.” What had started out as forced comments just to satisfy Nigel had become genuine, and even those first comments were true. Andy tended to be more than a bit truthful under stress, something that had irritated her as a kid, but served her somewhat better as an adult.

Miranda looked taken aback at Andy’s answer, so immediate and truthful. “You’re sure.”

“Positive.”

“Thank god.” Miranda reached out and grabbed Andy’s shoulder and pulled her forward.

Andy went willingly, not sure what was happening until Miranda’s lips were already on hers. She stiffened for just a second before she melted into the kiss, sighing against Miranda’s lips. Oh. It felt so very right. Miranda’s lips were soft, moving perfectly against hers. There was no scratchy stubble, no awkward mash of noses and teeth. It was as if they had done this a hundred times before and Andy didn’t understand how that was possible, but it was. Maybe because she could read the other woman so well it translated to kissing her too.

They broke apart after a few minutes, breathing hard. Miranda closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the couch, hair a bit mussed from Andy’s grabbing. It had been even softer than the woman’s lips. She felt herself wanting to run her fingers through it again. And she definitely wanted to kiss Miranda again. She couldn’t quite figure out why they hadn’t done that before.

Probably because she had been an idiot. She hadn’t really realized she’d been attracted to Miranda until the woman was kissing her senseless. If she was generous maybe she could move the realization back a few hours to after the first few comments, but that was about it. How in the world had she been so thick? She liked to think that she at least knew herself if nothing else. She was totally going to have to do something thinking about all this soon, but not right now. Right now was for kissing Miranda.

“Andrea,” Miranda pulled herself off the back of the couch. She hesitated for just a second before plowing on. “What do you want from this?”

Andy blinked. She really didn’t know. She’d just figured it out. But unbidden she imagined a relationship unfolding before her. It wouldn’t be easy, it was Miranda after all, but somehow she knew it would be worth it.

“Well, I’m not really the type for casual flings…” she trailed off and looked away, uncertain.

“Good.” Mirada pulled her forward and kissed her again. “Because I am not either. I never do anything with less than a hundred percent.”

Now _that_ Andy did know.

“Turn in your two weeks’ notice. Find two assistants that won’t cry and run out on me. Train them to the best of your ability, though they will never be as good as you are. Apply elsewhere, anywhere of your choosing and I will write you a letter of recommendation. After that two weeks is up and you are settled into your new job we will see where this will lead us.”

Andy took a deep breath. That was a lot of change in a small span of time. Still, she nodded. “Ok.”

“But for now.” Miranda kissed her again. And again.

And then Andy lost track of how many times they kissed, only realizing how much time had passed when Miranda sat back gasping in another breath and frowned. Andy followed her line of sight and saw that it was now past midnight. She frowned as well and then winced just slightly. Her lips were rather tender, at least that explained it.

“I believe it’s time to go home, Andrea.”

“Uh, yeah.” Andy stood and held out her hand for Miranda.

Miranda looked at it for a few seconds, cocking an eyebrow and looking at Andy with a slightly amused, slightly irritated look, before taking it and pulling herself up gracefully. She walked over to her desk and Andy almost fainted at the sight of Miranda strutting away from her in heels. But the feeling wasn’t so unfamiliar, but she had always attributed it to awe at Miranda’s power. Now Andy knew it was a lot more than that.

She shook herself, went out to her desk, gathered her things, called Roy, and waited for Miranda to emerge from her office. Miranda strutted out, grabbed her own coat and bag from the closet, smiling at Andy’s shock before strutting towards the elevators. “Come, Andrea.”

Andy followed, unable to do anything else. They rode the elevator down where Andy turned to the other woman and smirked. “The next two weeks of riding the elevator are going to be hard. I’m so going to want to kiss you.”

Miranda’s face didn’t change one iota as she said, “What if I told you I know where the cameras blind spot is?”

The doors dinged open, leaving a stunned Andy in her wake. She caught up with Miranda in the car, settling into the warm leather seat.

“And Andrea,” Miranda looked at her, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “The car has a privacy screen as well.”

Only then did Andy wonder just how much she was in over her head. But then again that was good thing.

\---

Despite the argument, Miranda had Roy take her home first, doubling back to the Upper East Side after she was firmly ensconced in her tiny apartment. She threw her things off, both dreading the early wakeup call because it was so late, and wanting it to come all the faster. She would see Miranda again. God, this feeling was familiar too. She really had been an idiot. As much as she hated to admit it, Nigel had been a godsend in a way. At least she and Miranda had realized they had feelings for each other.

And for the second time in less than four hours a realization hit her. She had her phone to her ear and ringing before she even thought about it.

Nigel answered after four rings, mumbling into his phone tiredly. “Hello?”

“You knew!”

“Six? Why are you calling at one in the morning?”

“You totally knew, don’t deny it Nigel. That’s why you dared me to flirt with Miranda.”

Nigel’s tired brain seemed to catch up with what Andy was saying. He chuckled into the phone. “And if I did?”

“I’ll kill you. And then resurrect you and hug you. And maybe kill you again, I’m not sure, but you’ll probably end up alive in the end.”

“Yeah, yeah, Six, I’m so scared.” Nigel yawned. “You’re welcome.” And with that Nigel hung up the phone.

Andy stared at the flashing disconnect screen on her phone, almost calling back, but left it alone. She’d get him tomorrow. Because now that she and Miranda were going to attempt a shot at whatever was between them, she had to be completely honest, right?

She smiled evilly as she went about her nightly ablutions and slipped into bed. Tomorrow would be good, in more than one way.


End file.
